


That splashing sound

by Gilli_ann



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-19 21:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10648656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilli_ann/pseuds/Gilli_ann
Summary: Hobbits may on occasion be quite irreverent when nature calls.





	That splashing sound

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Names and places all belong to the Tolkien estate, and I most certainly make no profit from writing this.

“Peregrin Took, Guard of the Citadel! Is this true? I could hardly believe my guards’ report!”

King Elessar looked stern, his face carefully noncommittal, but nevertheless indicating some suppressed emotion. Queen Arwen, sitting beside him by the Fountain, placed a calming hand on his arm.

Pippin hung his head, but stood his ground.

“At every festivity good ale flows like the Anduin, Sire, and those tankards are meant for grown men! Honestly, we judged we would make it back to our house, but then we unfortunately passed the fountain.”

“And you thought that most convenient? This fountain! The symbol and pride of the Kingdom! You, Meriadoc, Samwise…. Don't tell me the Ring-bearer was in on this too? You might have caused an irreparable injury to the White Tree!”

Queen Arwen surreptitiously swept her shimmering train away from the pool’s edge, eyeing a bench standing further from the fountain. A small smile was tugging at her lovely lips.

“We’re sorry and humbly beg your forgiveness, Sire. We couldn’t help ourselves. It was the fountain’s fault!”

The king frowned, considering this outrageous statement. 

Respectful silence reigned supreme in the courtyard, except for the bubbling of the fountain, its water endlessly trickling - and dripping… and softly tinkling… and gently splashing - from several spouts into the shallow pool. The sound was sweet and soothing, but might also impact a listener in other ways. 

“I will take this under further advisement, before I pass judgment. I have urgent matters to attend to,” the king abruptly stated in a somewhat strangled voice, immediately rising to leave. Signaling to the queen to remain seated, he hastened towards the palace, walking increasingly faster. To those left behind he seemed to be hunching over a little as he rapidly disappeared out of sight.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, Queen Arwen’s silver laughter trilled merrily through the courtyard, complementing the fountain’s gentle splash and tinkle. 

She threw her beautiful head back and shook with such overwhelming mirth that the hobbits feared she might actually fall backwards into the fountain. And that idea was the last straw. They started laughing too. The somber guards and dignified nobles and pretty ladies-in-waiting couldn’t help themselves either. They followed suit. 

For a long while the sunny courtyard resounded with loud, tempestuous, irresistible laughter; - the kind of laughter that makes eyes water and bellies ache, the kind of laughter that drives sadness away and mutes pain, the kind of laughter that is joyfully and equally shared by one and all, be they among the very great or the very humble. 

Long after the hobbits had left Minas Tirith, their wonderful gift of carefree and happy laughter was gratefully remembered and cherished throughout the City, yes - almost as much as the fact that they had saved the world.


End file.
